Limbo Wonderland
by YourRhineStoneEyes
Summary: Murdoc has been having odd dreams which lead to disturbing hallucinations, or are they reality? It seems like something is trying to tell him something or maybe he finally has lost his mind completely. (2DxMurdoc fic, this will also include quite a few OC characters I created for an original story idea I have.)
1. Welcome

Each dream started differently, never the same; every dream was another scenario. Sometimes Murdoc was at home in these dreams and other times he was in some wasteland type city that looked like it had been completely destroyed and left to rot through out time. These weren't dreams that plagued somebody all of their lives, these were new; it was like some door had been unlocked and out flowed the blood. He had no clue why these dreams were happening; okay that was a lie, he had a few ideas of why these dreams were happening.

During their first album and their first touring session Murdoc had spent nearly the entire time consuming drugs and playing around with black magic. The band had broken up once because of a lot of things, but mostly his over abuse of drugs and Satanic type rituals. It wasn't until he swore to his band mates that he would knock it off with the drugs and the rituals that they all agreed to restart the band. That didn't mean Murdoc would keep his word; he was Murdoc Faust Niccals for fuck's sake. He wasn't some child, if it wasn't for Russel he never would have had to swear off drugs and black magic. The only good side to this was that the band had been back for three months now; as far as Murdoc was concerned they couldn't leave or kick him out at this point. For the past month he had been drug binging, late at night he would go to the cemetery and perform rituals. He had learned lots of new rituals, as far as he was concerned he was gaining more control over the supernatural.

It was a little hard to explain the demons running around Kong Studios, including the one playing receptionist at the entrance of the building. Oh well, made no difference; so far they hadn't hurt anybody. Not anybody important.

Right now he was concerned, not very concerned, but just a little bit; these dreams were disturbing him in just the slightest. They were never that long, but they seemed real almost like they were telling him something. Stupid, that was a stupid thought; it was most likely just a side effect from all of the cocaine and speed. That's it, it was nothing; it isn't anything, they're just idiotic nightmares caused by drugs that were probably laced with Satan knows what.

There was nothing to worry about.

He still couldn't help but worry.


	2. Juliet

"Hey wake up, damn it are you stoned?"

Murdoc looked up at Russel, the drummer sat behind his drum set his white eyes glaring down at the older man.

"Sod off"

"I told you to stop doing that shit, bad enough you don't show up half the time that we're recording. Now you're passing out during sessions and we need to re-record the bass for Feel Good Inc. because somebody fucked it up, again."

"Since when did this become yer band, it's mine, and I'm telling yew to shut up."

"No I'm not going to shut up, I told you to stop with the drug binging shit, and don't think I haven't noticed the demons running around here."

"Shut up yer giving me a damn headache."

"Good, you deserve a headache."

He wasn't in the mood for this shit; it was amazing how much of a grudge somebody could hold against you for kidnapping them and exploiting them.

"Russ maybe yew should leave 'im alone, Mudz does a lot for us."

Murdoc looked in 2D's direction; the singer stood awkwardly in the corner, he was fumbling with his fingers like he always did when he was nervous. He rarely spoke up for himself or anybody else for that manner, but he would give it a shot sometimes especially to defend Murdoc.

"Will you stop defending him 'D, he doesn't care about you and he hasn't done a damned thing for any of us; we could have finished recording two weeks ago if he hadn't deleted half of the tracks."

"They didn't sound right, fucking fat arse." Murdoc mumbled angrily.

He began rubbing at his head, fuck it hurt. He wondered if there was a spell for migraines, maybe a spell for making annoying drummers shut the hell up. Fuck it; he wasn't going to deal with this, his head hurt, and he could faintly hear the voices of his nightmares in the back of his mind. He got up and left the recording studio, he could hear Russel yelling at him, but didn't pay attention to the actual words that he was saying. He was half way to the lift before he hard foot steps coming up behind him, a moment later he was knocked to the floor. He turned onto his back; 2D was sitting on the ground rubbing at the back of his head. Murdoc cursed beneath his breath as he pulled himself to his feet, 2D looked up at him smiling nervously. The green skinned man rolled his eyes, he reached his hand out to offer the taller man some help, and 2D took it and got to his feet.

"Why are yew following me, dullard?"

"I wanted to see if yew were a'right, are yew?"

"Yeah I'm fine, now sod off."

Murdoc turned and started walking again; he hit the button to call for the lift. It seemed to take forever, it was probably broken again; everything in Kong seemed to be broken, himself included. The doors creaked open as the lift finally reached the floor, Murdoc stepped inside. He frantically pressed the button for the doors to shut before 2D could get in with him. Sadly the lift was a piece of crap and 2D was determined to follow him like some love sick little puppy dog. It wasn't exactly secretive that 2D liked him, far too much really. He was always staring, following him around, trying to talk to him, and even touch him. Now wasn't any different from those other times, 2D was standing next to him his black eyes studying the older man.

"Stop staring at me, it freaks me out."

"Why?"

"It's creepy, bad enough I've caught yew watching me sleep twice now. Wot the hell is with yew and that?"

2D shrugged, he averted his eyes for a moment then returned to staring at the bassist.

"I just do it, plus yew look nicer when yew sleep."

"Wot is that supposed to mean?"

The taller man stepped back.

"Nothing I just meant, I mean yer nice, but er…Yew look less stressed an' angry, plus when yew sleep yew don't yell all the time and act crazy an-"

Murdoc hit him in the back of the head, 2D moved to the other side of the lift. That was better, now maybe he would stop talking. Sleep; Murdoc was sick of sleeping, when he had been a little kid he had loved it. When he slept that was the only time he could escape the abuse at home and the bullying at school. Anymore he couldn't stand it, every time he closed his eyes horrible images flooded his mind; not always the same place, but they all seemed so related. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes allowing himself a moment to think over the latest nightmare he'd had. It had been more so like a memory, a really long off one; he had been about fourteen in the dream, there had been another boy with him. A very beautiful boy with messy dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a nice smile; Murdoc and the boy had been behind their school, kissing like they always used to do. It was so nice until they had been caught; a group of boys had seen them. Pulled the beautiful boy out of Murdoc's arms; they had beaten him then went after Murdoc. He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked away.

2D stood looking at him, concerned. It never looked right when he frowned.

"Yer not okay, I can tell."

Murdoc looked towards the dirty floor; he couldn't look at him right now. The lift stopped, the doors opened, and Murdoc rushed out into the car lot. He went into his Winnebago shutting and locking the thin metal door behind him. He picked up a bottle of whiskey, went back to his room and began drinking. Stupid memories, stupid Russel, stupid 2D, and stupid everything; he didn't know why he was having these nightmares. It wasn't totally abnormal for him to have dreams about things that had happened in his past, but he could swear to Satan that they were now related to this weird place….This weird desolate city that plagued every other nightmare, something was messing with his brain. He had an itching feeling that whatever it was dangerous and dark.

He finished off the bottle; he threw it across the floor. It hit against the wall breaking in half, he'd clean it later if he remembered; if not then he would clean it after he stepped on the broken glass.

Sleep, maybe he could go to sleep; Hell these could just be caused by stress. They were working on this new album, he had people on his ass, Russel was watching him constantly, and Kong was still infested with zombies. Right; that had to be all that this was, he rarely had good dreams anyways. These were nothing unusual; he was just making himself paranoid over absolutely nothing.

Murdoc lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.

The first thing he noticed he noticed before he even opened his eyes; he was no longer lying on a bed, he was lying on a cold hard ground. The second thing he noticed was what felt like snowflakes falling on his skin, apparently the no nightmare theory had been wrong. He opened his eyes and sat up; he studied the far too familiar surroundings. The sky above him was grey, nearly destroyed buildings surrounded him some still burning, a street lead into an endless fog. He held his hand out catching some of the grey flakes in the palm of his hand, ashes; not snow they were ashes.

"Human ashes" a thick voice called from somewhere nearby.

He quickly got to his feet and began looking around. He felt alone, but he could feel eyes on him. He always felt eyes on him when he woke up in this place; this endless type of Hell. Was this Hell? No he knew better than that, he lived in a house built right on top of Hell. He knew what Hell looked like and it was nothing like this. Murdoc started walking, remaining cautious of his surroundings. He noticed how still the air felt; it wasn't hot, warm, or cold. This place was nothing, it wasn't light or dark, hot or cold, and it was neither busy nor vacant. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around himself, something about this place drained him of his attitude; the one that made him feel superior to everybody around him. In this place you didn't matter, he didn't matter one bit.

He stopped walking when he thought he heard something. He listened closely; it sounded like crying, he was pretty sure it was a female. He began walking again, picking up his pace as he followed in the direction of the sound. It didn't take long for him to arrive at the source of the mournful sound. A woman stood at the edge of a cliff, he couldn't see the front of her, but what he could make out was her long tangled black hair and the white wedding dress.

He had this overwhelming urge to hug her, to wrap his arms around her and console her. Murdoc wasn't one to console a woman or to make them feel wanted; he hadn't done that for many years now. Even if he couldn't see this woman's face she reminded him of another person from his past, back when he had been far less cynical and dead to the world around him.

"Go on and console her." Said a voice, it was male and husky like the one he had heard before.

He obeyed the disembodied voice; he made his way up to the woman. He placed his hand on her shoulder; he began to ask if she was alright or needed him. She jerked away from him stumbling forward, her movements were….They weren't normal or natural, they were jerky and spastic. She turned to face him; Murdoc stumbled backwards nearly falling down. Her eyes were a dark brown close to appearing black; her thick black painted lips were twisted into a sort of snarl, everything about her face screamed rage. Out of the front of her throat protruded a knife, blood soaked the top of her breasts, and all down the front of her white gown. She reached her hand up grabbing hold of the handle of the blade; she twisted and jerked at it until it tore free from her skin with a sick plop. She lunged at him swinging the blade frantically around the air as she screamed like a woman completely out of her mind. Behind him he could hear the laughter of the disembodied male voice followed by another laugh similar to the first. Murdoc fell back onto the hard ground; the woman fell on top of him. He didn't have time to defend himself; the knife was plunged into his chest.

He sat up in his bed shaking and sweating. Murdoc's widened eyes scanned his empty bedroom, his greasy hair stuck to his forehead. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest; he ran his shaking fingers back through his hair. Breathe in, breathe out; it was just another nightmare….He could feel a pain in his chest; he removed his shirt and looked down at his chest. Nothing, nothing was there; he was just losing his mind. That woman, that city had all been a nightmare. That's all that there was to it, he didn't need to freak out over it. He lay back down, but didn't close his eyes this time. He was too scared to close his eyes, too scared that he would be plunged right back in the middle of the city with the crazed woman on top of him. The one with the gaping hole in her neck and the bloodied knife stabbed into his chest while those voices laughed at the chaos playing out before them.

Dream, nightmare.

It was nothing.


	3. A Ghost of a Man From Yesterday

There was a small black box that he kept hidden beneath his mattress. Nobody knew about it and nobody would ever know about it, he even planned to be buried with this box just to ensure that nobody would ever see the contents. He hadn't looked inside of it for quite some time now; he had planned on never looking in it. He undid the latches and opened it up; inside were folded pieces of paper, old photographs, and a ring. His throat felt like it was closing up and he felt dizzy for a moment just by looking at the contents. Memories hit him; memories he had suffocated beneath alcohol and speed. He cursed these nightmares that were forcing him to remember these things, forcing him to face a past he had deemed dead. A man he thought died years ago, years before anybody really knew him.

He picked the ring up first holding it with shaking fingers. The band was gold; a rather small diamond was set on the top. It wasn't much, Satan knew it had been cheap, but for him back then this ring had cost a lot of money. He had been worried that she would reject it, hate that he couldn't afford her something nicer; something that she deserved, she deserved so much more than him and what he could afford her. When he had given her the ring she had been happy, she loved it, and she had loved him.

He reached into the box picking up one of the photographs. He looked over it and just by looking at it a thousand memories hit him. He leaned back on his bed resting his head against the cold metal wall. She had been stunning; the woman in the photograph was pure perfection. She had waist length black hair he remembered how nice it had felt to run his fingers through it, it felt soft like silk, and she always carried the scent of butterscotch. Her skin was pale, her face was flawless; her eyes were a dark shade of green, her lips full, her body was slim. She was like a porcelain doll in human form.

Lilian Harrison; that had been her name, he had been so surprised that a woman like her had approached him. It wasn't like they had met romantically, they had met in a seedy pub; he had been in a fight with a man two times his height and weight. Like most fights that Murdoc got himself into he was losing, badly. He had been on the ground with a bloodied face and an arm that felt broken, all of the sudden the man standing over him fell to the ground unconscious. Behind him stood Lilian holding a now broken whiskey bottle; she smiled down at Murdoc and asked him if he was alright. She had helped him to his feet, bought him some drinks, then had taken him back to his flat where she cleaned the blood off of him, and dressed the other wounds he had earned that night.

Before he had met her he had been so miserable, so hateful with himself and the world around him. He had sworn after he graduated from school that he wouldn't love anybody or care for anybody, but there he was. He had trusted somebody, loved somebody, and he would have given anything for her.

Oh if only happiness for men like Murdoc Niccals didn't always end in horrible tragedies…

"Wot are yew doing?"

Murdoc looked up to see 2D standing in the doorway. He quickly shoved the ring and photo back inside of the box then stuffed the box back under his bed. He got up from his bed, went up to 2D and grabbed the younger man by the collar of his shirt. He dragged him to the front door then roughly shoved him out into the car lot. The blue haired man fell right on his face.

"I told yew to never come in 'ere unless I tell yew that yew can. Yew stupid fucking moron yer fucking lucky that I don't knock every tooth in yer pathetic worthless head down yer fucking throat." He yelled as he glared down at the younger man.

2D unsteadily pulled himself to his feet, blood ran from his nose.

"Sorry I was just wondering 'bout yew."

"Don't, leave me the fuck alone."

With that he slammed the door shut. He didn't even bother locking it, locking it never seemed to do much. It barely took anything to take the damned thing off of its hinges and 2D had a talent for picking locks and getting into places where he didn't belong.

Well at least that distraction had pulled him from memory lane. It was stupid thinking about those things and going through those photographs. Keeping those photos only brought him pain and misery, he wasn't that man anymore.

Murdoc went back to his bedroom; he pulled the box from under his bed, and then went out into the car lot. He found one of the metal burn barrels scattered around the garage, usually meant for 2D's child support notices, and letters threatening the band with law suits. Murdoc pulled the photos of Lilian out and tossed them into the burn barrel. There were still other memories, photographs and letters. There was even a photograph of the boy he had dated in school; a photo of the two of them with their arms around each other, smiling broadly. He tossed the photos and everything else including the ring into the barrel. He kept himself on alert as he went through the other steps before pulling out his lighter and flicking it on. In his hand he held one last item, a newspaper article he didn't even have the courage to read. He set it on fire and threw it in with the rest of the junk, he watched as the fire spread. The pages curled and shrunk until they turned to nothing but ashes. He stood and watched it burned, watched until everything was gone except for the tiny shining of the gold ring.

That man was dead, the man that he used to be.

The boy who had loved a beautiful free spirited Punk boy, the man who had loved a stunningly beautiful woman, and the man who had nearly been a father; that man was dead and gone.

With one final glance in the barrel, one last look at the ring; he turned and left going back to his Winnebago where he would drink until he passed out drunk.


	4. Love is a Waste

Murdoc sat on the edge of his bed; he held a cigarette in his hand. He had barely touched it, he'd mostly just been watching it burn out. Arms wrapped around him from behind, lips pressed against his right shoulder blade. He felt himself tense; he was used to the very lovely one night stands with women where they knew quite by nature to leave right afterwards. With 2D though it seemed to take far too much work to cram that rule into the blue haired boy's brain; he had hoped for a moment there that 2D would just leave once they were finished, he had put his underwear and jeans back on, but right after that he got back on the bed. Normally Murdoc would scream at him, hit him, and finally physically remove him from the Winnebago. He wasn't in the mood for all of the fuss that came with that, not today anyways. Hell he had barely been in the mood to shag him, but he had desperately needed a distraction from himself. He still couldn't escape it; every day it felt like the dreams were growing worse. Yesterday he could swear he heard voices, not inside of his head. Nothing like that, but like somebody was actually there with him; the voice sounded like the disembodied one from the desolated city. He liked to believe that he wasn't going completely mad, that there was some unnatural unholy cause behind these images and these things that he was hearing inside his mind. Demons, demonic, witch craft, and wizardry; who knew one could actually hope for those things?

Those answers were much more acceptable to him than the idea that he was completely insane. Murdoc had never been strong on the sane side of life, but he didn't want to be a complete loon. He liked to be aware, at least slightly aware; drug binging didn't exactly keep him aware though.

"I think I might be dying."

"Wot, why do ya think that?"

He hadn't even realized he'd said it out loud until 2D responded to him.

"I don't know, I just think I am."

"Yew mean like yew want to die, I don't want yew to die."

Murdoc pulled away from the younger man, he stood up and went to the other side of the small bedroom.

"No nothing like that, we all die so don't act so surprised by me saying it."

2D was staring up at him, almost like a worried little puppy dog. He was always too fucking loyal, too naïve.

"Do yew want to?" He asked nervously.

Murdoc took a drag from his cigarette; he dropped it to the floor stubbing it out with the toe of his shoe.

"Want to wot?"

He already knew what was implied, but he wasn't exactly in the mood for this conversation.

"Die, do yew want to?"

"We all die sometime, doesn't really matter."

"It does to me, I know I don't wanna die; I wanna live as long as I can."

Murdoc sat back down on the bed, immediately 2D scooted next to him.

"Why are yew still here?"

"I just thought maybe we could 'ang out. Yew keep acting weird lately."

"Yeah wotever, it's nothing yew need to worry 'bout."

He felt the younger man's fingers caressing his cheek. He should throw him out, he needed to; if he let 2D think he could just hang around like this then he would start doing it on a regular basis.

"Mudz?"

"Wot is it dullard?"

"I kinda think that I'm in love with yew."

Murdoc sighed heavily, he rubbed at his forehead. His head hurt, now it hurt worse; it wasn't really shocking that 2D was in love with him. In a way he knew, knew without anything being said. He looked at the younger man; he was looking downwards now, his hands on his lap. Most likely he was waiting to be beaten or screamed at. Murdoc placed his index and middle finger underneath the singer's chin. 2D flinched, yes he was waiting to be hit; why love somebody who you feared?

"Love is a waste of time."

2D looked at him, confused.

"I like love, it's really nice except when it ends or the other person doesn't love yew back. I mean I know yew don't love me or anything, but it's a'right, I just thought I'd tell yew. I'm really worried 'bout yew too, because yew keep acting strange and I know yer doing drugs again."

"I don't believe in love; yew fall in love with somebody and before yew know it they leave yew or they die. It never goes well, people waste months or even years of their lives dedicating themselves to other people. To hell with that, love is for the weak."

"Don't yew ever think it's weaker to keep yerself alone an' away from everybody?"

It was, he was right; not like Murdoc would amid that out loud. He didn't care how weak he appeared, he never wanted to go through the Hell of loving something that could crumble and break.

"I'm a lot of things, but I'm not weak. Now on that note I want yew to get the hell out of my room."

Murdoc grabbed 2D by the front of his shirt; he dragged the blue haired man to the front door then pushed him out into the car lot slamming the door shut behind him. Murdoc grabbed a rum bottle from the cabinet then went back to his bed. Love; stupid fucking word, stupid false fucking feeling, and it had never done anything good for him. If he ignored it then 2D would give up on the feeling in a month or so or he would continue being a love sick little puppy dog, but either way Murdoc planned on ignoring him completely. He could shag him, be in a band with him, and be his mate; he would never love him back though, he didn't want to. The last two times that he was in love ended miserably, he wasn't a fan of going through round three of that.

His loneliness; he would stay alone. Alone with his drugs, his rum, and the increasingly disturbing nightmares plaguing his mind.


	5. Bo and Nathan

These memories were not his memories, they belonged to somebody else. He knew that a rational person would shrug these off as dreams, very oddly specific dreams about people that possibly didn't even exist, but he knew better than that. He felt that these were real, that he was looking into somebody's mind. He had no clue where he was; he knew that he was currently inside of a house, an old fashioned type one at that, but he didn't know what country or city. He looked around the room in which he was standing; the walls were painted a pale yellow, the wooden floor looked worn down, a single light hung from the ceiling barely shedding light on the room. On the left side of the room was a small bed, on the right was another. Sitting on the floor against the bed on the left of the room was a small boy of about nine years of age. His hair was white and tangled, hanging a bit past his earlobes, his skin was shockingly pale and dirtied, and he wore a white dress shirt stained with dirt and blood, his black dress pants ripped at the knees. The boy was crying his face buried in his hands. In front of him sat another boy nearly identical to the first, except Murdoc could fully make out this second boy's face. His eyes were rounded, a bruise covered his right cheek, and a large cut went across his forehead. His face was boyish, round cheeks, but something about his look said he'd seen more than a young boy should. He had a hand on the crying boy's shoulder, he was whispering to him like he was doing his best to soothe him.

The door behind Murdoc opened; at the sound of the door opening both boys jumped to their feet, they looked scared. A woman entered the room everything about her demeanor said she was angry. The dress she wore was rather old fashioned; the collar going up to her chin, the bottom hem was down to the floor, white lace decorated the collar and sleeves, the dress itself was green with black pinstripes. The woman looked….Pristine, almost like she was or thought she was somebody of class and importance. She held her head back nose in the air, her skin was vibrant nothing like the boys who were now standing with their hands behind their backs and heads lowered. The woman had brown hair pulled back in a tight bun.

"What happened to you this time Nathan?" The woman asked as she looked down upon the boy who had been crying.

"A-A boy at school was teasing me for the way I look. He said I was a demon, Bo beat him up for me." He said looking towards the other boy.

Their accents were American, a bit Southern sounding if he was correct. He wondered if this woman was their mother, if she was then why did she appear so disgusted by her own sons?

"Pathetic, absolutely pathetic; you do not get into fights; it's horrible enough that your father ran off because of how grotesque the two of you appear. Now you get into fights, do either of you understand what you have done to my reputation in this town?"

The woman's hands were balled into fists at her sides, Murdoc knew what would happen soon; his father had looked at him that way many times before. He wished he could do something, but this was a memory and he was merely a spectator to the show.

"We aren't demons, we're just different." Bo said.

He stared right back at his mother challenging her and her growing rage. Murdoc couldn't help but smile as he looked at the young boy, damn he reminded him of himself at that age. Defiant, brave, and too cocky for his own good.

Their mother went up to the bruised boy; she grabbed him by his tangled hair pulling him to the floor. Bo let out a sharp cry; he grabbed at his mother hand scratching and slapping in attempt to free himself from her tight grasp. His mother dropped him to the floor; she gave a swift kick to the young boy's side then to his stomach.

"Do not argue me, you were never meant to be born; either of you, you are a curse to me and to this Earth."

The other twin was still standing there watching as his brother was being beaten. He placed his hands over his eyes like he was hiding from it, hoping to disappear.

The woman's breathing became heavy, her face sweaty, and finally she gave up on the blows she had been delivering on her son. The expression on her face changed from disgust to something else, something soft and near motherly. She got down on her knees; she scooped her young son up into her arms and hugged him tightly.

"I'm so sorry my little darling; you know how I get sometimes. You know that I love you, both of you; I'll find a way to make God love you again."

The scene faded to black leaving Murdoc in the shadows. He didn't know how he felt about what he had seen; he knew that he wanted to wake up soon; he feared what else he would see. He'd heard about these things in the news, they almost always ended with the crazed mother slaughtering her 'demonic' children.

A new scene unfolded, but he was no longer inside of a house. He now stood in the middle of a playground outside of a school house. A group of boys and girls were circled around something, all of them yelling and cheering. Murdoc walked up to the group of children, he looked over their shoulders to see what was going on to get them so excited. In the middle of their circle was one of the boys from the last scene, except a bit older now; near his teen years. The boy's hair was longer and his face looked far less childish, but his pale pink eyes no longer held innocence….They looked insane.

The boy was doubled over his hand placed over his stomach, his white hair hung in his face, blood ran from his nose, and he grinned up at another boy. The other boy a rather fat child with short curled brown hair tackled him, knocking him to the ground. He sat upon the white haired teen and began punching him in the face. Murdoc could tell the brown haired kid was scared, he was beating up this boy because of his condition, and because this was a generation that didn't know a damned thing about very simple conditions.

"Stop smiling you freak!"

Now the albino boy laughed, it was the laugh of somebody absolutely out of their mind. He never fought back, he just continued with his laughing and smiling as his face became bloodier.

"Let him go."

Murdoc looked in the direction of the weak plea to see the other boy; he was being held back by two older looking boys. Nate; something told him the restrained boy was Nathan and the one on the ground was Bo.

He didn't know what, but something about this disturbed him; something about this was off and could only predict bad things to come. Bo turned his head to the side and almost seemed to be staring at Murdoc, the feeling he got from looking into the boy's eyes was scary. The scene faded and he was back to nothing.

He didn't know why he was seeing these memories; he wasn't sure if they were the memories of Nathan or those of Bo. Maybe a combination of the two, he didn't understand who or what was making him see these lives playing out. He hoped it would end soon, he felt more uneasy with each passing memory.

A sharp pain shot through his skull as the new memory began. He was standing in the middle of a field; it looked pretty close to abandoned.

Just a few feet away stood the twins; Murdoc approached them with caution. Bo held a baseball bat and Nate held a hatchet, the bassist felt like turning and running. There was nothing good that could come from this scene, from this memory. He had to look though, maybe if he just looked and finished this scene then he could go back home and forget all of this.

He walked around the boys so that he was now in front of them. Lying on the ground was the chubby brown haired boy from the last memory, the one who had been beating up Bo. He was knocked out; a few drops of blood ran down his forehead. The twins looked at one another and smiled.

"Nobody messes with us, right?" Bo asked his brother.

Nathan nodded in agreement.

Murdoc watched as Nathan lifted the hatchet up above his head then swung it downwards. The blade chopped into the unconscious boy's stomach with a sickening sound. Bo went next, slamming the bat down onto the brown haired boy's head. He watched as the twins chopped and bashed at this boy, a boy who had attacked them. They laughed as they murdered him, Murdoc felt sick; the scene seemed to last for hours but in reality it must have only been ten minutes. Once they were finished there was barely anything left of the body. Bo looked upwards, his crazed eyes fixating on Murdoc's face. He pointed the bat in the bassist's direction.

"You, we will see you soon enough."

The pain in his head increased to the point he screamed out from the pain. He fell to the ground.

"Mu'doc, Mu'doc wake up."

He sat up reaching out blindly, he felt panicked, and too scared to open his eyes. He fell forward against a body, he wrapped his arms around the person in front of him, he felt fingers combing through his hair.

"Shh it's a'right it was just a nightmare, yer a'right."

Murdoc pulled back a bit and opened his eyes, 2D looked down at him worried.

"Wot happened?"

"Yew passed out during band practice, Russ wanted to wake yew up but I told him to just let yew sleep. God Mudz yew look really bad."

"I-I feel like I'm losing my mind." The older man said laughing dryly.

"Yer not anymore crazy than usual, c'mon stop looking so scared. Yew just need more rest an' maybe lay off of the drugs, yer really worrying us with that."

2D ran his fingers along the older man's cheek.

"Where are the others?"

"Inside; Noods is trying to get Russ to not kick yew out of the band." 2D said smiling a bit.

"This band sucks without me….Fuck I feel sick."

"Lay down, I'll stay with yew if ya like."

Murdoc lay back on the bed; he looked around the room just now realizing it wasn't his.

"Why am I in yer room?"

"It seemed easier to just bring yew in 'ere, who's Nate?"

Murdoc looked at the blue haired man.

"Wot?"

"Nate, yew kept yelling t'at name out while yew were sleeping."

"Nobody; just some stupid kid t'at I had a nightmare 'bout." He said shrugging it off.

He wished that were true; for all he knew both of those boys were dead by now. The era in the memories had been ages ago, by any luck they were probably rotting away in prison somewhere in the USA.

2D lay down next to him wrapping his arms around the older man's waist.

"Ya know I 'ate yew doing that." The bassist muttered.

"Yeah, but I know yew feel too shitty to make me leave yew alone."

"Moron"

He closed his eyes again, not to sleep just to rest a bit. He kind of liked the feeling of arms being wrapped around him, he hadn't had it for such a long time now.


	6. I Don't Believe in Purgatory

He hated to resort to this, he really hated to resort to this, but he wasn't exactly high on options at this point.

Murdoc walked into the recording studio to find Russel sitting on a small stool, he was huddled over the corpse of a pig working away at turning it into some demented type of art. For a moment he actually wondered if this is something the boys in his latest dream would have done for kicks.

"I need help."

Russel stopped what he was doing and turned to look at the older man.

"Yeah we all know that, about time you go see a damn therapist."

"I don't need a fucking head doctor, besides yer the one playing doctor with a damn cadaver."

"At least I don't shag them." Russel muttered as he turned back to his project.

Murdoc went up to the younger man; he grabbed the wrench from his over sized hand and threw it across the room.

"Listen 'ere fat arse; I need yer help."

Russel glared up at him; Murdoc took a small step back.

"Really and why exactly do you think I would even want to help you?"

"Yer the only one in this pathetic house that knows anything 'bout death."

"Please tell me you aren't planning on killing somebody."

Murdoc shook his head.

"Course not, I'm not that dumb."

"A lot of people could argue that."

"Cut the crap, are ya gonna 'elp me or not?"

Russel sighed heavily; he glanced over at his project then back up at the bassist.

"Fine; what do you need my help with?"

"Well it's er….It's complicated; okay for awhile now I've been having these really odd dreams, well more like nightmares."

"Nightmares, what the hell does that have to do with death?"

"I think I'm gonna die, soon."

"If only we were all that lucky." The younger man replied dryly.

Murdoc took a seat on the back of the deceased pig; he ignored the angered look the drummer gave him.

"I keep dreaming 'bout this place an' at first I thought it was just a dream, but it keeps on happening. It's like this city except like after Armageddon or some crap like that. Then lately I've been dreaming 'bout people, people I don't even know."

"They're just dreams Muds, doesn't help that you're doing drugs again. Dumb ass."

"Fuck will yew pay attention to me?" Murdoc yelled angrily.

Russel regarded him for a bit then nodded.

"As I was saying I've been 'aving different dreams lately. Last one I 'ad was 'bout this family, I know it could be a dream, but….It wasn't I just know it wasn't. It was 'bout these two boys and their mum, it was all very odd like I was picking at some bloke's brain reading through his memory stick or something."

"What does this have to do with death?"

Murdoc ran his fingers back through his hair.

"Something 'bout the place I keep going to looks like some sort of Hell, I mean I know it isn't Hell, but it's something almost as bad. It looks like a real place yew know?"

Again Russel nodded; either he was paying attention or he actually got what the older man was saying.

"So how many rituals have you been fucking with lately?"

"Not many, I've cut them down ever since this garbage started, but I know this doesn't 'ave to do with it. I feel like something from that place is gonna kill me, take me or something; I don't know. I don't even know why I'm talking to yew 'bout this, more I talk the more mad it sounds."

"Yeah it does sound crazy, but maybe it isn't. I don't know man; everything about you screams crazy as fuck. Look; maybe something is after you, maybe this place is real. It could be purgatory."

Murdoc snickered at that.

"Purgatory, wot a joke; Diablo 'as his big red eyes on my soul mate."

"That doesn't mean a lot; I just don't get why they want your nasty ass for."

"I don't even know much 'bout the place."

Murdoc knew that this crap called Heaven was real and his paradise called Hell was very real indeed. Purgatory just seemed like folklore, this pathetic place for people who couldn't commit or no God or Devil wanted them.

"Lucky for your uneducated ass I know a lot about it, too much."

As long as this didn't turn into a rant about his dead friend Del then Murdoc was up for listening to the younger man ramble on.

"Sometimes it's where a person goes after they die and they don't even know that they're dead. Some people go there because their soul is strong enough that they can actually drag their feet in the dirt and refuse to go to Hell. Most are there because they aren't pure enough for Heaven or dirty enough for Hell, basically those who think too much of themselves and those who have too much baggage emotionally for either place."

"That's all, 'ow do they get out?"

"For the ones who don't know they're dead they have to realize they're dead. The ones who are hard headed just get bored and go where they belong. The ones who think they're too good for Heaven finally realize they're wrong and well the others are just screwed. The thing I don't get is why in God's name anything in purgatory would want you. You're the farthest thing I've ever seen from emotional baggage."

Murdoc looked around the room; his mind automatically went to his past. Nobody knew about it other than the people who had been involved with it.

"I don't know either, er thanks either way mate. I'm going to go do something else or wotever."

The green skinned man got up and left the room before Russel could even ask him something that Murdoc could deem too personal. He made his way into the restroom making sure to not make eye contact with the little red and black demon that was currently watching him. He went to the sinks and looked into the dirty mirror that hung above them. This was the first time he'd seen his reflection for some time; fuck he looked like Hell. Sickly green skin, bags under his bloodshot eyes, and his black hair looked greasier than usual….Great gray hair, he was getting gray hair. Stupid dreams, stupid dead people, and their annoying problems.

The temperature in the room shifted going from warm to ice cold, the lights flickered like strobe lights then went out completely. He felt he should turn and leave, but his feet were glued to the spot. The mirror in front of him was completely blackened except for a small white light glowing in the middle of the glass. His own reflection appeared in the mirror, he saw a pale female hand creep its way up his shoulder gripping tightly. He quickly glanced behind himself but saw absolutely nobody in the room with him. He turned his attention back to his reflection and was startled to see a woman, the woman from his dream; the one who had had the knife protruding from her throat. She stood behind his reflected self with her hands on his shoulders and her mouth close to his ear. Her eyes were wide, her black painted lips curled into a cruel little smile.

"Wot do yew want from me?"

He tried to sound intimidating or angry, but he only sounded scared.

"Everything" She whispered before giggling.

She slid her hand down his chest and moved her body closer to his. Even if she wasn't really there he felt sick and uncomfortable, wasn't this the same crazy broad who had tried to stab him?

"Get off of me"

"They died because of you, you selfish man."

Murdoc took a step back like that would make her leave, she only laughed. Her eyes were filled with hatred, but the smile on her face was amused by his reaction.

"Wot are yew talking 'bout?"

"Your wife and your son, they died because of your selfishness. If you hadn't been out drinking all of the time she wouldn't have died."

"Shut up, shut yer fucking mouth!"

The woman laughed.

"Oh sweet little boy, you can't quiet the dead. Too bad they both went to Heaven, that's a place you'll never get to see. It's all your own fault; you were a terrible husband and would have been an even worse father."

Murdoc let out a low growl before slamming his fist into the mirror. The glass cracked and spider webbed; he hit it repeatedly until it began breaking off and falling into the sink. He cursed and screamed at the top of his lungs as he continued smashing away at the glass until there was nothing left, no trace left of the dead woman mocking him.

He felt arms wrap around his waist pulling him away from the mirror. He began thrashing and hitting at the hands holding onto him. Murdoc dropped to the floor taking down whoever was holding onto him.

"Mu'doc knock it off, it's a'right."

The older man's body relaxed, he slumped back against the man holding him.

"It's okay, I got yew." 2D whispered.

He took hold of the older man's right hand lightly running his thumb over the fresh cuts. Murdoc flinched at the searing hot pain going through both of his hands.

"Sorry" The younger man said releasing Murdoc's hand.

The bassist turned so that he was facing the blue haired man, he rested his head against 2D's chest. He felt haunted by what the woman in the mirror had told him, it was his fault that his wife and unborn child had died….A son he was going to have a son, they both had wanted a son so badly. They both had wanted to start a family, to have a great life together. He thought that he had been a good husband, he'd done his best. He missed her, them; God he fucking missed them.

"Are yew crying?" 2D asked sounding a bit surprised.

Murdoc didn't even notice that he was in fact now crying, it was a thing he hadn't done for years now. He buried his face against the singer's chest.

"Shut it."

2D combed his fingers through the older man's greasy hair, his other hand placed on the middle of his back.

He must be losing his mind; there weren't ghost women in mirrors, there was no purgatory, and he sure as Hell couldn't be sitting on the bathroom floor curled up in 2D's arms crying like a moron.


	7. Leave Me Alone

Murdoc stood in the bathroom of his Winnebago; he was pulling out every sliver of glass that he could make out in the dim lighting of the grimy little room. He pulled out a larger shard and dropped the blood stained glass into the sink along with the other pieces. 2D was sitting in the bedroom, Murdoc had tried to tell the singer to just go away; that he didn't need him to be hanging around. 2D had told him he felt like he should be around for a bit just in case the bassist needed his help. He didn't help; he didn't need anybody's help. He just needed a good drink and maybe a bit of cocaine to calm himself down. He couldn't shake the image of the dead woman in the mirror. He was beginning to loathe a woman who most likely was nothing more than a bad hallucination.

He couldn't help thinking over what Russel had told him about souls and purgatory. He thought about Bo and Nathan, their memories of child abuse and bullies on the playground, and finally getting their revenge in the form of homicide. He couldn't stop thinking about the woman in the mirror, the woman in the desolated city in her wedding gown with a knife protruding from her throat.

They were real, they were fucking real.

Murdoc looked up at the mirror nearly expecting to see her again, to see something. At this point he wouldn't be surprised to see the image of his deceased wife and unborn child.

He only saw himself this time; his pathetic angry self. He looked more haggard than usual, exhausted, these images and dreams were breaking him down. He could feel it, he could feel himself going. It was hard to explain, but he felt more and hollow on the inside like the life was being drained from him. With each hallucination and each nightmare he felt he was gaining closer to the edge of something.

"Muds yew okay?"

He looked over to see 2D standing in the doorway; his black eyes were locked on the older man's still bloodied hands.

"Yeah I feel fucking fantastic." He replied bitterly.

He turned the sink on allowing the hot water to run over his injured hands. He liked the way that the water burned the open wounds, it was something; it was a physical pain which differed quite a bit from the emotional pain and physical emptiness.

"Yew were crying."

"Yeah I was an' if yew tell a fucking soul 'bout this I will strangle that scrawny little throat of yers." He said glaring in the taller man's direction.

2D nodded, he knew damned well how Murdoc handled emotions. How he didn't like anybody to see him when he was at his weakest.

He turned off the water, reached up into the medicine cabinet pulling out gauze. He could still feel 2D watching him; it gave him an overwhelming urge to hit him.

'Do it, ya know that you want to.' The raspy little voice said.

Murdoc shook his head trying to vanquish the voice. After his last bout of nightmares the voice was no longer unknown, even if he couldn't see the face he knew it was Bo. If he had been by himself he would have told the imaginary voice to just shut up, shut up and leave him the hell alone.

"Yew should leave; I don't need yer bloody help."

"No way, I don't think I've ever seen yew cry before. Yew've been actin' real weird lately, it's scarin' me."

He was scaring somebody, that wasn't totally surprising. He couldn't help but smirk at the idea of it.

"I'm not a child I don't need yer fucking help, yew got that?"

He finished bandaging up his hands. He shoved past the taller man as he left the room, he went to the small kitchen grabbing a bottle of rum out of one of the over hanging cabinets. 2D was still watching him, it was growing irritating.

'Come on Mudsie just smash that bottle over his head.' The voice said laughing at its own cleverness.

Murdoc gripped tightly to the bottle, he closed his eyes tightly doing his best to calm himself, and make everything go away. 2D placed a hand on the older man's shoulder. Murdoc turned quickly, his fist connected with the blue haired man's jaw knocking him back against the small table. 2D fell to the floor; Murdoc delivered a swift kick to the singer's stomach then to his groin.

"Get up an' get out of 'ere yew worthless little freak.

He could hear Bo laughing in his ear; he could even feel the cold dead hands gripping his shoulder.

2D just barely opened his eyes; he squinted up at the older man. Murdoc let out a low growl as he grabbed the younger man up by the front of his shirt. He swung him around slamming him back against the counter; he smashed the glass bottle against the cabinet just inches away from 2D's head. The singer cringed; he kept his eyes tightly shut too scared to open them.

'Good boy, that's right take it all out on him. Be the monster we both know that you are.'

Murdoc punched the younger man in the face and then a second time. He hated how 2D allowed him to do this to him, how he pretended that he could defend himself but he never did a fucking thing. He hated how 2D would blame himself for this; find a way to forgive Murdoc for something so violent. The bassist shoved the younger man away from him watching as he fell to the floor.

"Get out of 'ere, yew disgust me."

2D slowly pulled himself to his feet and stumbled towards the front door. He stopped to look back at the older man; he looked like he was on the verge of crying. He turned away and left slamming the door behind him.

'Good boy always break the ones that you love.' Bo said as he laughed at the green skinned man.

"Go away yew fucking hick." Murdoc muttered angrily.

Wasn't it just an hour ago that he had been crying in front of 2D?

Now he was back to cold, back to beating him until he was close to needing another trip to the hospital. He knew tomorrow he would get Hell for this from Russel and Noodle. Right now he just wanted the ghosts to leave his room, to leave his mind, and body.


	8. Chris

"I'm getting real sick of your shit; the only reason I even agreed to come back into this band was because Noodle told me you said you would stop this drug shit."

"I'm not doing drugs, fuck I told yew a million times already." Murdoc yelled back angrily.

About an hour ago Russel called him into the recording studio not saying what he wanted to talk to him with; at the time Murdoc had figured it was something music related. The second that he entered the room and shut the large metal door behind him the drummer was on his ass yelling at him. He had obviously noticed how banged up 2D was after the latest confrontation, 2D had told him it wasn't Murdoc's fault; told him that the bassist was just really out of it. He had told Russel about the mirror and how not completely there Murdoc had seemed to be, so naturally the possessed man went right to drug abuse.

"Then what is it then?"

"It's…It's wot I fucking told yew, something is after me."

He felt frustrated and angry. He was sick of Russel treating him like he was completely replaceable, he was tired of 2D trying to care for him and worrying over him, he was scared of these images and voices that were plaguing his mind, and in the end he could only wait for death to come like he knew that it would in the end.

"I know you're doing drugs, I found a library worth in your damn room."

"Wot in Hell's name are yew doing in my room?"

"We should just kick you out of the band." Russel said his voice going from angry to calm and almost decisive.

Murdoc could feel the anger growing, he just wanted to scream.

"It's my band, mine; if it weren't for me yew would probably be tied to a bed somewhere while some priest tries to get demons out of yer fat fucking arse. None of yew would be anything without me, yew pathetic bastards need me. Sod it, fuck yew; I'm not listening to this shit If yew need me for something actually important I'll be in my Winnie getting plastered."

Murdoc turned and stormed out of the room slamming the door shut behind him. Bo's faint laughter sounded in the back of his brain accompanied by a burning sensation. Lately whenever he heard the dead man's voice he would feel a burning in his head almost like he was being set on fire, when he felt a hand on his body that wasn't really there it made his skin burn. He wondered if this meant he was coming closer to just dying.

"If yew want me so badly, come and fucking get me. I don't care anymore." He muttered to himself as he stood in the lift waiting for it to arrive at his floor.

The laugh ceased leaving him in the silence that was his own mind. He just needed to be alone, that's all that he ever wanted to be, but it always seemed somebody or something was waiting for him. Though a small part of him sort of wanted 2D to come around and bug him for a bit, just so he could make sure that the idiot was alright. He hardly remembered what he had done to him, he knew he had beaten him pretty badly, but it wasn't worse than any of the other times that he had kicked the hell out of the blue haired idiot.

The car park was deserted; silence resonated through the darkened area that seemed to stretch on for eternity. He wondered if this was what purgatory looked like, just some place made of darkness and concrete, you wandered around possibly for ages finding nothing, and only waiting for some deranged soul to pop out and attack you.

Footsteps smacked against the concrete, it sounded like somebody was running in his direction, coming up behind him. The sound grew closer and louder, he closed his eyes tightly as his muscles tensed.

"Just go away" He whispered harshly.

One….Two…..Three…Four….

The footsteps ceased and again everything was silence. He quickly went to his Winnebago finding that the door wasn't even shut all the way; 2D, he was the only one other than Russel who would at random go into his personal space, though 2D was prone to doing it a hell of a lot more often.

The moment Murdoc stepped inside his ears were filled with the sound of Punk music playing. The singer knew how he felt about the genre; honestly he didn't have a lot against the music itself. It just brought memories of his Nazi Punk brother and his Punk friends beating him with lead pipes and bats until his ribs were cracked and his face was soaked with blood. It wasn't until he had met 2D that he assumed all Punks to be violent pricks with nothing on their minds besides shagging and violence.

Murdoc made his way back to his bedroom. 2D lay on the bed his long lanky legs hanging over the end of the bed, his converse clad foot tapped in time to the beat of the music. He had his hands behind his head and his eyes closed, for a moment Murdoc could pretend that beneath those closed lids were normal looking eyes.

'You ruined that, remember?' A voice said to him.

He looked over at the record player, next to it lay the sleeve for a Rancid album.

"Yew know 'ow I feel 'bout Punk music." Murdoc said as he moved closer to the bed.

2D opened his eyes a bit and looked at the older man, he gave a small smile.

"I know"

"Especially when yew play it in my room an' on my record player."

"Yew like this band though."

"Er well they aren't too crap."

"Also I found my Rancid album in yer room, I was looking for it." The younger man said sounding a bit proud.

Murdoc sat down next to the younger man. Until now he hadn't really noticed the large dark purple bruise along his jaw, the green and brown one on his cheek, his slightly swollen nose, and the small cut near the corner of his right eye. He was accustomed to seeing the younger man being bruised and broken, he felt terrible, but something told him he couldn't express it; not comfortably anyways.

'You don't feel bad, just get drunk and pretend it never happened; like you did with your wife dying.'

Murdoc gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists. Hell maybe he was going insane.

He felt a hand over his squeezing lightly.

"Mudz are yew a'right?"

2D was sitting up now looking at him with worry in his wide black eyes.

The older man could only manage to nod in response. He took a deep breath letting it out slowly; he shoved the voice and the memories to the back of his mind and tried to focus on less terrifying aspects of his life and mind. Murdoc reached his hand up running his fingers along the younger man's bruised jawline. 2D flinched a bit in pain from the older man's touch, Murdoc mumbled his apology. He continued caressing the singer's skin being as gentle as he could be with him.

"Does it 'urt?"

"Not too bad" 2D said turning his head looking away from the older man.

Murdoc dropped his hand to the bed, he felt uncomfortable being around the younger man.

"Don't lie; it looks like it 'urts really bad. Are yew mad at me?"

"No of course not, I can't be mad at yew; I'm worried about yew, but not mad at yew."

"Worried about me, why?"

2D lay back down on the bed, Murdoc lay down next to him.

"Well yew seem tense an' kinda like someone is after yew all the time lately. I know yew've been doing drugs lately, way more than usual, and….Yew honestly look like shit."

Murdoc laughed, he turned onto his side.

"Thanks I love hearing I look like shit."

"I mean yer still beautiful, but yew just look…Er I don't know 'ow to say it; I guess maybe tired or drained I guess."

The younger man looked slightly frustrated as he tried to figure out the words he was searching for. Murdoc moved closer to 2D, he pressed his lips to the singer's cheek then brushed them against his earlobe.

"Don't worry 'bout me, don't love me, or mourn me." He whispered against his ear.

2D turned his head to the side to look at him, Murdoc kissed him gently.

"I love yew Mu'doc."

"Sorry"

"Why?"

"Yew shouldn't waste yer time on me."

"I like wasting my time with yew, even if yew don't want me or care 'bout me like 'ow I do 'bout yew."

Murdoc sighed heavily; he took hold of the singer's hand lacing their fingers together. He turned so he was lying on his back again and closed his eyes.

"Yew remind me of this bloke I kind of dated back when I was a teenager."

"Wot was 'is name?"

"Chris; I can't remember his last name though. Beautiful bloke, he was sweet, and always happy."

"Wot happened, did yew break up?"

Murdoc smiled sadly.

"Er sort of; we were out behind our school snogging an' these guys from our town caught us. They ganged up on us; some of them took me an' beat on me while the others beat on him. I got away, I was so freaked out that I just ran. I left him there, I remember hearing him yellin' for me to help him, but I just ran. Next day my dad found out an' beat me until I needed to see a doctor an' then Han beat me for it a week later….Last I heard 'bout Chris his parents sent him away to live with his grandma where he could be under better control."

The memory still stung; it proved just how loyal he really was. The first person he loved, first one that he dated, and the first person to trust him; first fucking thing he does when they need him the most is run, run as fast and far as possible. Put them in the back of his mind like they meant nothing, just like he ended up doing with his wife about the time of her death. If he thought about them he had to think about how dreadful of a human being he was, how if he allowed himself to even like 2D then something would happen and he would leave the blue haired man on his own when he would need Murdoc the most. He didn't want to do that with somebody else, twice seemed like enough times for one lifetime.

"Yew were scared."

"I should 'ave helped him, at least tried to."

"Yew were just a kid an' yew didn't know wot else to do." 2D said doing his best to ease the older man's troubled mind.

He felt lips press against the side of his neck, 2D gently squeezed his hand in a sign of silent comfort.

"I love yew so much Mu'doc."

He knew, he could feel it in the words, and it killed him even farther. He could hear Bo's voice laughing at him, at 2D and their pathetic awkward relationship. He doubted the dead boy ever felt love, not romantic love anyways. Murdoc had felt it twice in his life and he was scared to ever spend time on it again.

He considered just throwing 2D out to save them both time and trouble, but went against it. He said nothing when the younger man moved on top of him resting his head against his chest, his legs tangled with his own, and his fingers playing with the inverted cross necklace dangling from the bassist's neck. He allowed it because he wanted it, he feared it, and he needed it because he knew soon enough they would come for him.


	9. She Loves the Blood

He was dreaming again, dreaming of someone else's life and their horrid memories. This time it wasn't from childhood to adulthood; he was seeing something later in life. A quiet suburban American neighborhood at night; a one floor white painted house, all lights off inside of it. He spotted something out of the corner of his eye, a figure was crawling through the what he figured was the living room window. Murdoc slowly made his way closer to the house almost afraid that this unknown figure could hear and see him. He approached the front door placing his hand on the knob; to his surprise it was unlocked. He walked inside of the seemingly desolate home, he could barely make a thing out, but something in his mind told him the places he needed to go inside of this home.

A loud feminine scream sounded from somewhere back in the house. Murdoc ran in the direction of the voice, he ran inside of a decent sized bedroom. A king sized bed sat in the middle of the room; a figure in a white dress kneeled on the bed straddling somebody, they held a blood stained knife up above their head. With a loud scream they plunged the knife into the person below them again and again. Murdoc went to the side of the bed; a woman who appeared to be in her forties lay there covered in blood, her brown eyes were wide the colour fading with her life. He looked to the figure on top of the dead woman; he recognized her immediately. This was the woman from the empty city, the one from the bathroom mirror who blamed him for the death of his wife and child. Except here she was alive, she was grinning, her eyes were light with twisted joy.

"Oh God" a strained terrified voice whispered from the corner of the room.

He looked to see a man in the corner of the room watching the scene play out, the crazed woman turned her head and looked at him the smile disappearing from her face. She scowled at the man as she pointed the tip of the knife in his direction.

"You, you did this to me!" She yelled before jumping off of the bed and running towards the man.

The man quickly fled the room with the killer close behind him. Murdoc followed them into the living room where the killer knocked the man onto the floor. They rolled around struggling for power; he pulled at her hair and pushed at her face, she grabbed at his throat and scratched his cheek.

"You you're all the fucking same, you lie and you cheat. You all hurt me, you betray me; you don't deserve to live!"

Murdoc knew somehow she didn't know this man, she didn't know him at all.

The headlights of a car flooded the room in light distracting the woman. It gave her potential victim time to bite her hand, the one holding onto the knife. She cried out in pain as she dropped the weapon, the man picked it up quickly and plunged it into her throat all the way to the hilt. Her eyes turned from rage to pure shock, she fell backwards falling to the floor. She clutched at the knife handle; she gurgled, and choked spitting blood all over her face.

The man left the room most likely to find a phone to call the police. The woman on the ground stopped struggling, dead. Murdoc slowly approached her; he kneeled next to her body. She looked to be in her late thirties, she wore dirty wedding dress now soaked with her own blood. He went to touch the knife handle, her hand darted up grabbing his wrist tightly.

"I'm Juliet and I know all of your sins. The sins of your kind, of men; I will cut you from your chin to your cock and play with your intestines when you come and join us." Her voice was a low demonic growl.

He tried in vain to pull away from her vice like grip but she didn't want to let go. The grin returned to her face as she stared up at him.

"You will die and very soon." She whispered her voice nearly childish.

With that she released his wrist and dropped back onto the floor, dead.

He woke with a start; his body was soaked with cold sweat and his heart was racing. His immediate reaction was to get up and run to the kitchen and grab the first bottle of alcohol that he could find. He removed the lid and began drinking from the bottle enjoying the burn of the booze as it travelled down his throat. It was real, the liquid and its burning sensation were real. He wasn't asleep, he wasn't dreaming, or seeing brutal murders taking place. He was alive and awake in his own shitty little Winnebago downing a bottle of gray goose. He emptied the bottle, threw it across the room then dropped down to the floor pulling his legs up against himself.

Laughter sounded next to him, he felt a burning heat on his shoulders.

"You'll like it with us, don't worry." Nathan's voice sounded.

"Just leave me alone, I don't want to go with yew fuckin' freaks." He whispered angrily.

"You don't have much of a choice, we need you….Not just you, people like you."

"Why?"

There was no reply, the burning went away and he was back to being all alone. At this point though he was never sure if he was truly alone; it felt like they were always around him, those bastards knew he was going to die and they knew when it was going to happen. To them this was a demented game that they all enjoyed, they enjoyed waiting for his life to end because it meant…He didn't know what it meant for them….He would know soon enough.


	10. Death Comes ThiS Way

He felt strange all day; there was this throbbing pain inside of his head. There was this stabbing pain in his stomach and sometimes as crazy as it sounded he could swear to Hell and back that he couldn't feel his heart beating when he placed his hand over his chest, there was nothing. Not a fucking thing, the aching in his skull turned to burning by the time noon came around; by that time all of the pain felt worse by ten fold. The four of them were inside of the recording studio going over the tracks, rehearsing, and changing what needed changing. The room was big, but to him at this moment it felt horrifyingly small and cramped, his hands shook causing him to hit wrong notes constantly. Russel was becoming irritated with him, accusing him of being wasted on drugs, but he wasn't. He had a few drinks, but no drugs. Noodle would tell the drummer to lay off, say that they were all stressed out. 2D was giving him worried glanced, placing his hand on Murdoc's arm, and whispering to him asking if he was alright. The bassist would ignore him, shrug his hand off of his arm, and tell him to mind his own business.

The truth was that he was beginning to feel freaked out by all of this. He was getting freaked out; finally he had to just leave the room. He dropped his bass to the ground then stumbled out of the room nearly falling the moment he got out into the hallway. He placed his hand firmly against the wall as he guided himself through the hallway, the room was moving spinning, and the floor seemed to be falling away from him. He heard a voice somewhere behind him, it sounded like 2D; he probably should stop and talk to him or just tell him to sod off. He couldn't stop walking, unless he had and he didn't know…Fuck he felt sick to his stomach.

Murdoc dropped to his knees. All of the pain built to a climax then came to a halt, it faded to nothing. A split second later hundreds of thousands of voices entered his mind screaming and whispering. He whimpered weakly as he placed his hands on the sides of his head, why was this happening? Screams, horrible incoherent screams were filling his head, there was a burning sensation crawling up his spine, and with that….He was out.

Everything was blackness; he could faintly feel a hand on his shoulder.

"Mu'doc, Mu'doc wake up….C'mon wot's wrong, wake up. Russel get out here, there's something wrong with Mudz!"

He wanted to move or respond but he couldn't, he couldn't move a single muscle. He couldn't even twitch his god damned eye; he could only faintly hear 2D's voice calling his name and feel his fingers running along his cheek then back through his hair.

"What is it?"

"I-I don't know he jus' he just went out an'….I don't know 'e needs a doctor." The young man yelled frantically.

Dying, God this was it he was finally dying. He wondered where his soul would go; would it go to purgatory which supposedly was so hungry for him or would he go to Hell like he rightfully deserved to.

"Damn it he's having a fucking drug over dose."

"He's shaking, call somebody."

"We should just fucking leave him, I'm getting tired of this shit."

That's right just fucking leave him, if he could smirk he would. He always felt amused by Russel's disdain towards him.

"Russ call a fucking doctor, I'm not letting him die."

He felt a weight on top of him; he knew he should be scared of dying. He had been paranoid about this, waiting for it to finally happen; he was never fond of the idea of his own death, but when it was finally happening he didn't mind. The screaming was gone; the burning had lowered down to a tingling sensation. The ground under him faded away leaving him floating on nothing, just complete darkness.

He felt a bit bad for dying in front of 2D, he didn't like making him so frantic like this; especially over nothing.


	11. Wonderland

The ground beneath him was cold, he ran his fingers along the rough texture of the cracked concrete; his index finger brushed through something soft. He opened his eyes looking at what he had just touched; it was a gray dust that for a moment he mistook for sand or dirt until he realized it was ash. He continue to lay there for another second or so, he just stared at the small pile of ash wishing that this was nothing more than another nightmare. He knew better than that though, it wasn't a nightmare this time; this time it was actually real, he was here.

He slowly rose to his feet; he looked around at his surroundings. It was a large vacated city; nearly every building was at some point of destruction, a couple of them were still burning, ashes fell from a gray sky, and the air around him was still as if this place was stuck in some horrible scene from somewhere in time. Some place in time mankind hadn't reached yet, a place that looked like a horrible nightmare come to life.

Something ran past him catching his attention, but by the time he turned his head in the direction of the figure it was gone. He felt suddenly uneasy almost like he was being watched; he began walking hoping to get rid of the feeling and whatever or whoever might be watching him. His footsteps echoed through the emptiness of this city, this couldn't be Hell. It seemed like it should be, but he had visited Hell a time or two and if he was right it was a place of fire and tortured screams. This was a place created upon silence and desolation, it was void of life, but he could feel something in the air; he could feel he wasn't alone in this place, he could feel there were more here. Maybe not people, maybe at one time they were regular people, but now they would be something else. Not demonic, but absolutely insane and dangerous.

Something pressed against the middle of his back shoving him hard. Murdoc stumbled forward nearly falling to the ground, but a pair of hands grabbed hold of his shoulders keeping him up on his feet. His eyes were cast downwards allowing him to only see the scuffed up black boots and the olive green trousers. He slowly looked up cautious of the person holding him up at the moment.

U.S. Army was sewn into the left handed side of their shirt over their chest. He felt an even heavier uneasiness when his eyes landed upon their throat; a bright red line going all around their neck, black stitches patterned along the cut like this was the only thing keeping the man's head on. Finally he looked at the man's face and that's when unease turned to a decent amount of fear; a thick cut went along the man's face starting at the corners of his mouth then ending at his earlobes. The man's skin was so pale it looked ashen and gray; his eyes were red and wide with insanity. His hair went down past his shoulders in tangled white knots.

"Welcome to Hell" He said as he smiled down at Murdoc.

When he smiled the cut along his mouth split making a wet ripping sound.

Murdoc jerked away from Bo's grasps, he stepped backwards bumping against something. He turned and looked to see the other twin; Nathan looked exactly like his brother the only difference being the wounds marring his flesh. His left eye was missing, a gaping hole in his chest right where his heart should be. Unlike his brother he wasn't smiling. He looked unsure and a bit nervous; he met Murdoc's eyes for a moment then looked past him to Bo.

"This isn't Hell" Murdoc said his voice low.

Bo grabbed hold of his shoulder turning him to face him.

"How would you know?" He asked curiously.

"Unlike yew an' yer creepy brother 'ere I've been to Hell. It has a lot more going on than this fucking dump."

He shoved past the white haired man and began walking again, he could sense that they were following him or at least Bo was. He had seen their memories, he had seen the things they had been through and the things that they had done while they had been alive. He knew what they could do to him without a single second thought, but he was dead….You couldn't really hurt somebody who was dead, death was eternal.

"You aren't dead."

Murdoc stopped and turned to look at the other man.

"Wot did yew say?"

Bo sighed heavily.

"You are not dead, most people like that news, but in a place like this it's not great news for you."

"Wot do yew mean?"

"You died long enough to get to this place, but right now you're probably hooked up to machines in some shit hospital in jolly ol' England. Most likely you're in a coma while some reject doctor tries to figure out what the hell happened to you."

"How would yew know any of that, yew could be lying for all I know; fuckin' freak."

Bo laughed; Murdoc took note of the rows of sharp teeth inside of the albino man's mouth.

"I've been here for a long fucking time my friend. We were gifted enough to get a hold of you, I know more about you than you would like to realize."

"I can't be 'ere, I sold my soul."

Bo rolled his eyes.

"I know, but that doesn't mean a whole lot around here. My brother and I were supposed to head straight to Hell, but…" His expression changed from one of deranged happiness to one of sudden sadness and loss. He glanced back at Nate who gave him a shy smile.

"Things change" He finished his voice soft.

"Why is it bad for me that I'm here alive?"

Bo stayed quiet for a bit, he seemed to recover quickly though.

"We aren't starving here by any means, but none of the spooks here would ever pass up the chance to kill and devour a living soul." He said giving a small sick smile.

"So wot are ya waiting for?"

"I like you, I rather see this place drive you insane than to eat you."

With that Bo turned and began walking away, he took hold of Nathan's hand and left leaving Murdoc all to himself alone in this Armageddon wonderland.

He thought over what he had said he couldn't get his mind off of their appearance. They died in war; they died violently, and at different times. He felt sad for them not much but just the tiniest bit. He remembered the last thing he had heard before coming to this place was 2D crying and begging for him to not die. He wondered for a moment what was going on in the living world right now, he wondered if 2D was right at his bedside still asking him to just wake up. He thought about how the blue haired moron had told him he had loved him, he remembered how he had rejected him not wanting to have somebody feel love for him.

Enough; this wasn't time to think about stupid shit like that, he had worse problems right now. It wasn't his problem that 2D was in love with him; nothing was his fault or his problem. People were just moronic and couldn't leave him be, maybe being here for a bit wouldn't be too hard. It wasn't like he would be stuck here for too long; he had signed himself to Hell in his own blood, he endured extreme physical pain just for fame. There was no way that Hell would allow his soul to rot inside of this vacated prison with all of these lost souls who were too stubborn or pathetic to just accept they were meant to go to Hell.

There had to be an exit around here, some way out. He just had to keep walking and looking until he found his way.


	12. Follow the Broken Road

The silence of the city is broken, now the sound of crying fills the air. The sound seems to echo and carry, this city was one of the few times where it would be literal if you said that you could hear a pin drop. He followed the sound of the feminine sounding crying, he felt an aching in his chest at the sound of it. He had never been one to ably handle a woman crying, Hell he couldn't handle most negative human emotions. The sadness and hurt of others generally made him uneasy and awkward feeling, he'd respond with blankness, or just simply leave. He hadn't been this way at one time; when he had been with her he had been different, how he always hated to see her cry. He thought about how if she had gotten with a different, a better man that she would still be alive today. He wasn't sure where he himself would currently be, but he highly doubted that he would be wandering around this lost city filled with its corrupted souls.

The crying grew louder signaling to him that he was closer to the source. Suddenly he stopped walking; this felt familiar like he had walked this path before and followed the same sounds of crying. He shook his head driving the thought away, he began walking again; within four or five minutes he arrived to the source. A thick wall of fog stood like a wall completely cutting off the city, he felt that if he walked through it he would leave this city and end up in another place. Standing before the wall was a woman in a white silk dress with sleeves of lace. Her back was to him, her dark hair hung down her back. Something told him to avoid her, to just turn and go away from this woman.

He ignored his instinct and pushed on. He was just about to reach out and place his hand upon her shoulder, but was stopped by a hand on his own shoulder followed by arms wrapping around his neck and a body leaning heavily against his back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Murdoc glanced back to see Bo leaning over him, he smiled down at the older man.

"Get the hell off of me yew fuckin' fruit." He muttered angrily, he shook the younger man off of him.

Bo released him and took a step back laughing at the bassist's reaction.

"I'm the fruit, that's funny coming from the guy who has sex with other men."

"At least I don't shag my own brother."

Bo smirked and shook his head.

"Don't touch her or talk to her." He said changing the topic back to the woman in the white dress.

"Why not?"

"Juliet doesn't like men, not one bit."

Murdoc kept his eyes locked on the woman. Juliet…..The black hair, the white wedding dress….He felt a sharp pain shoot through his head as the memories struck him. The dream of the dead woman stabbing him, the woman in the mirror, and the woman who was stabbed in the throat; this was Juliet; this was the one who accused him of causing the death of his wife.

"Ah now you remember, knew that you would. She had a really mean daddy and a husband just as bad; as far as she's concerned she should either be living it up with the angels or back on Earth to kill the guy who killed her. She's pretty fucked in the head if you ask me." He said laughing.

We're all mad here.

"Right; she's fucked in the head. I'm gathering yer gonna be stalking me the whole time I'm here." Murdoc said turning away from the crying woman so that he could glare at the dead soldier boy.

Bo grinned revealing his fangs; he did a little bow his red eyes never leaving Murdoc's face.

"Yew got yer brother an' I'm pretty sure yew blokes wouldn't mind Hell, so why in fuck are ya still in this shit hole?"

"Very good question; if you walk down this road just keep on going straight, you'll find the answer." He said pointing towards the road.

Murdoc looked in the direction that Bo was pointing; the road continued like it would stretch on for miles, it eventually faded away in the thick fog. When he looked back to where Bo had been standing the young man was no longer there. Murdoc couldn't say that he was disappointed; the kid was getting on his nerves. He gave one more look in the dead bride's direction; his heart still ached for her, he'd been abused growing up he knew the hatred that experience could leave you feeling. Leave it; she was a lost cause, a complete lunatic because she couldn't let go. She still can't let go of the past, of what a few bad people had done to her.

"Pathetic" Murdoc whispered to himself.

He followed the road going in the direction that Bo had told him to go in. He didn't know why he was listening to a dead guy, but he didn't have many options. He hoped that next time he would run into the shyer of the twins, the one that barely talked, and seemed a hell of a lot more tolerable.

He had to wonder what was going on in the world of the living. How long had he been gone?

Was it minutes, hours, days, or even into the weeks?

What if this lasted for years? He knew that time in these other worlds, these other lives could seem like mere seconds but in the world of the living they were actually hours or even years. The thought left him a bit shaken; he realized there was a chance that when or if he got out of this place that he could wake in a hospital; alone. He thought back to his wife, how she had been alone in the hospital the day she had died. He deserved this, there was no doubt in his mind.


	13. Hall of Memories

Walking through the fog was eerie and filled him with a sort of paranoid dread that something monstrous would come out of the dense fog and grab him; pulling him off into some unknown world where he would be eaten alive. He kept his arms wrapped around himself in a lame attempt at keeping himself calm and level headed. Murdoc Niccals was not a man who liked to feel scared or even the tiniest bit nervous. This world was nothing to him, it was just some shit wasteland that he was trapped in until something or somebody pulled him back into reality. He wouldn't be here long, not long enough for anything to hurt or kill him.

But there was the off chance; what if something did kill him?

He wondered what the reactions would be, he felt most people wouldn't care, or they would be happy about the news of his demise. 2D might be sad, but that'd be it; he hated the boy for being theoretically sad by his death. He wasn't dead, he was just in a coma wandering around in this never ending fog following directions told to him by some Southern brother humping corpse.

Hell maybe he was just finally losing his mind completely and this was what insanity looked and felt like.

The fog came to an end; he stepped out of it into a world different from the last. This was a more country looking land; the grass was all yellowed and dead, the sky overhead the usual gray as ashes fell from the sky. Not too far away sat a farm house; the home looked abandoned and in the middle of decaying. This must be where Bo wanted him to go, he wasn't completely comfortable in following the orders of the dead man, but he didn't have too many options. He kept his eye out for the twins, but they were nowhere in sight. On the porch of the old house sat a ash covered rocking chair worn down by time, the screen door leading into the house was punctured with large gaping holes. Murdoc pulled the door open and entered the home. The wooden floor beneath his feet was worn creaking as he walked, a 60s styled TV set sat against a wall static playing on its screen, against the wall opposite of the television set sat a dark green couch the cushions of it were cut open. Murdoc noticed a door next to the couch; he slowly turned the handle and pulled the door open. He stepped into the darkened room; a second later it changed from darkness to something less welcoming.

He stood in the room of a hospital; doctors and nurses were rushing around the room yelling orders at one another. On the bed lie the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but she looked so different now. She was sweating, her dark hair wet and clinging to the sides of her face, her eyes were filled with pain, and her skin was frighteningly pale. Her legs were bent and splayed; a doctor stood between them, he looked over his shoulder and yelled at a nurse, Murdoc didn't pay mind to what he was yelling for. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, off of his wife. She let out a loud scream, her eyes went wide then glazed over; her body stilled then began to convulse violently. Two nurses ran to the sides of the hospital bed, they grabbed hold of her arms trying to still her. Murdoc noticed the blood blooming and quickly spreading on her swollen stomach then watched as it dripped from between her legs staining the white sheets with red.

"We're losing her, we're losing them both!" The doctor yelled to the nurses who were doing their best to restrain the convulsing woman.

Murdoc could feel this heaviness settling in his chest, he felt his muscles tighten, and could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. His fault; he wanted to scream out for this to stop, he wanted to leave the room so he didn't have to watch anymore of this.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked in response to it.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you." A soft voice said apologetically.

He turned to see Nathan standing behind him; his red eye was focused on the hospital scene.

"Wotever; why are yew 'ere?"

"Did you know her?" He asked ignoring Murdoc's question.

He shoved past the younger man exiting the room, Nathan followed close behind shutting the door behind them.

"She was my wife, she was eight months pregnant; I was out at the pub getting totally plastered, she needed a ride somewhere but I being drunk and up my own arse couldn't be bothered." He sighed heavily and looked back towards the now closed door.

"She drove herself into town, some fucker ran a red light an'….She…They never made it, there were ten messages when I got 'ome telling me she was dead. That was the past though, doesn't matter; she's dead."

He shoved the painful memories to the corner of his mind where they had been before he had opened the door. He looked at Nathan who was studying him carefully like he could tell quite easily that the older man was lying. Unlike his brother he didn't smile, laugh, or say some rude little comment. He nodded solemnly and stood there awkwardly like he wanted to say something comforting.

"Wot is this place?" Murdoc asked breaking the annoying silence that came over the room.

"My mama's house."

With that the albino boy walked away leaving Murdoc to himself. He was getting annoyed by them doing this to him; saying something with little explanation behind it then just leaving like what they had said was enough to answer every question that Murdoc could possibly have for them.

Whatever he'd just keep on exploring the house until he found who or whatever he needed. Next stop was the upstairs; it was nothing except for a long hallway with doors going all the way down along it on both sides. Murdoc opened the first door that he came to hoping this memory or whatever it would be wouldn't be quite as horrible as the first.

The scene he stepped into was one he couldn't place at first. It was night time, back behind a dingy looking brick building; even from the outside he could hear the loud Punk music playing within. That's when it hit him what this was and he already wanted to turn back.

He watched as three males in their late teen years walked out. One had a red dyed Mohawk, his skin dirty, eyes a bright green, three lip rings along his bottom lip; he wore a torn white shirt and a black leather jacket with baggy blue jeans. The second man was heavy set; his head was shaved, two eyebrow rings, he wore a Black Flag shirt, and camouflage pants. The third man was tall, his head shaved, skin an olive green, eyes a black like shade of brown, nose pointed, and he was dressed all in black; Hannibal Niccals. With the three intoxicated teenagers was a young boy with shaggy black hair, big brown eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and green skin to match his older brother's. He looked so happy just to be with his big brother, to feel accepted for once instead of pushed to the side. Murdoc shifted uncomfortably as he watched, he knew how this would turn and just how quickly it would.

Within seconds Hannibal pushed young Murdoc to the ground, when the boy tried to get up Hannibal kicked him hard in the middle of his back knocking him back onto the dirty pavement. The man with the Mohawk went over to the dumpster grabbing two lead pipes and a bat, he handed the bat to the heavy set man and the other pipe to Hannibal. Murdoc watched as they gathered around the young pathetic runt on the ground and began hitting at him. Little Murdoc screamed violently his voice lost in the night; nobody cared, he knew somebody heard him scream but they didn't give a fuck if a kid was being beaten half to death. The teenagers laughed as they beat on the young boy; once they were done the boy lay still on the ground covered in filth and blood. Murdoc wondered if they thought he was dead, he remembered waking up in the hospital after this, and being told by a nurse that he had just been dropped off outside of the building. There hadn't been anyone with him; he knew when he got back home that his father had beaten him despite the boy's broken ribs and arm.

He turned and left the room slamming the door shut behind him.

Was this all that this place was? Doors hiding endless memories; he wondered if the house somehow got inside of your mind. Everybody to walk through the front door their fears and past being read then shoved right in their faces; for a moment he thought about Bo and Nate going through these rooms, he'd seen a taste of their memories.

He passed a few doors not even wanting to open another one. He came near the end of the hallway and opened one of the last doors.

He was inside of a crappy motel room; the walls were stained with graffiti art, a noose hung from the ceiling fan, a knife through the screen of the cruddy TV set sitting atop a nearly ruined dresser. He didn't quite know what memory it was, but he knew right away it was from touring around the time of their first record. He smiled a bit as he looked around the trashed room; this was back when they often shared rooms, Russel and Noodle hated that he would do this much damage to one room. He didn't care though, it was fun; he was finally becoming famous he thought he deserved to have some bit of fun.

The door to the motel room opened; 2D stumbled in with Murdoc right with him. The bassist was gripping the front of the singer's shirt; he turned and slammed the taller man back against the door. 2D wrapped a leg around the older man's waist pulling his body up against his, they began kissing hard; they kissed and fondled in a fashion that was awkward and damn near hard to watch, but as Murdoc recalled it had seemed well planned when they had done it.

He watched as the two of them stumbled towards the bed, 2D lay down pulling Murdoc down on top of him. His hands went up under the older man's shirt and Murdoc's hand went down the front of the blue haired man's pants.

It was the first time that they had sex. It had been a good day; they hadn't fought once, they had talked like old friends or lovers even, the show had went incredibly well, and afterwards they found a pub where they got completely drunk. One thing had led to another; then here they were in this shitty motel room making out then fucking. He didn't mind this memory too much, but he should have known then that it wouldn't go well. As he watched the scene play out he paid attention to 2D; his body language, the look on his face, and the way he touched the bassist. Even the first time, even completely drunk the way he was with Murdoc said, screamed that he cared for the older man. The bassist hadn't given a fuck about that though, he just wanted to get off, and 2D was a feminine male he didn't mind some of the time.

Now he just felt disgusted with himself.

"That is definitely gay."

He looked behind him to see Bo standing there smiling as he watched the memory play out. Murdoc turned around and roughly shoved the younger man out of the room slamming the door shut behind him.

"Oi that's none of yer fucking business, bastard."

"Touchy subject; he's really pretty, did you kill him too?"

Murdoc gritted his teeth resisting the overwhelming urge to beat the dead man.

"No he's not, he's fine."

Bo smirked.

"Sure he is; desperately in love with a scared old man who beats on him just hoping for the day that he finally gives up and stops loving him. I'm sure he's in the hospital at your bed side like a good little pet, just waiting for his master to wake up."

"Shut yer fucking mouth."

"Sorry Mudsie but that doesn't work with me like it does with your boyfriend." The younger man said, he reached out running his index finger along Murdoc's jawline.

The bassist smacked his hand away.

"Sod off; why did yew want me to come here?"

Bo shrugged.

"Go through the door at the end of the hall, I swear it isn't another one of your memories."

Murdoc paused a moment before turning and going up to the door. He turned the handle, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.


	14. Gotta Let Go

He entered a small kitchen that looked just like the rest of the home like it had been abandoned for many years now. Cabinets lined the walls, a screen door lead outside, a fridge on one side of the room, a stove and a few counters on the other. In the middle sat a wooden table, at this table sat a woman. He recognized her immediately. This was the woman from Bo and Nathan's memory; their mother, the one who had been screaming at them and beating on them. She looked older now; her once vibrant hair was dulled with streaks of gray going through it. She wore a black and grey floor length dress with white lace lining the neck and sleeves of it; unlike Juliet, Bo, and Nathan she didn't look physically scarred. She looked aged, her head was bowed and tears were running down her ashen coloured cheeks. In her hands she held worn down pages; Murdoc cautiously approached the woman, he took one of the letters from her hand and began reading it.

'Dear mama;

Nathan died, he was brutally murdered and not by an enemy. He was killed by one of us, an American soldier. Are you happy? Remember before we left how you said if we had been born girls this wouldn't have happened?

You told us we deserve bad things and nothing else, I guess you got part one of your wish. They found him with his eye gouged out; somebody had ripped into his chest. He looked so horrible and….I couldn't save him, I couldn't find him. I kind of wished that you had been here; maybe you could have done something if we had found him sooner. I wanted to tell you before the army told you about it. I can't stop crying, I can't believe that he's gone.

Love, Bo'

Murdoc felt a pang of guilt as he read the letter. He could nearly picture a then living Bo sitting in an army base crying as he wrote this. This heart felt letter to his mother announcing the death of her son.

"I tried to love them." The woman said her voice brittle.

"It was difficult; I never wanted a son, especially not two. I'm a good woman, a God fearing woman….Why am I in this place?"

"You're here because you're a wretched bitch."

Murdoc looked behind him to see Bo enter the room with Nathan close behind. The man with the slit mouth went over to the chair where his mother sat; he stood behind her placing his hands on her shoulders.

"I remember that letter; want to know what she sent back to me? She told me she was happy, told me that Nate deserved it; it was God's way of erasing the deformed evil from the world and she should have put us away when we had been boys."

The bitter hatred in the white haired man's voice was more than evident. Murdoc felt for them, not a lot, but he knew what it was like to grow up with a parent who fucked you around constantly. One minute treating you even just a little decently then the next breaking your teeth.

"Why is she here?" Murdoc asked.

"She's one of the people like Juliet who thinks they should be in Heaven. She figured my brother and I were either a curse from Lucifer or God testing her faith. She was supposed to go to Hell, but when a spirit is stubborn…Well they end up here."

"and yew and yer brother are 'ere cause yew wanna be."

Bo smiled and nodded.

"Yer finally understanding."

"Why am I here?"

Bo sighed; he left his mother's side and went back to Nathan.

"Don't worry you still aren't dead, we would throw a welcome party if you were." The younger man said laughing at himself; Nate looked over at his brother and smiled shyly.

"So wot then?"

"You have a deal with Hell so you're already a damned soul. You're also a man with an interestingly depressing past, hell even your present is depressing. You give off such a….The scent of misery you give off is almost enough to be poetic."

He felt uneasy with the hungry look in the other man's eyes. He thought back to what Bo had told him earlier; how they rarely got living souls in this place, how if he wasn't careful he could be killed and eaten, and then he would be stuck in this place like the rest of the supposed to be damned souls.

"So wot I learn some life lesson, become a decent bloke and learn to love God?" Murdoc asked smirking at the younger man.

Bo shrugged.

"Do whatever you want, but the important thing is that you learn to live with all of this. You think that you're over her, over what your dad did to you, and over bad things you yourself have done, but you aren't. You never will be, but right now you need to at least come to terms that you couldn't save her and that you're fucking up your present."

"So wot?"

Why did he have to forget, he didn't want to forget or forgive himself. He mildly enjoyed living in misery; when he was miserable he got angry with himself and that meant he would take it out on 2D if the twit was anywhere within reaching distance.

Bo smiled and shook his head; he reached down taking hold of Nathan's hand.

"I'm here because I can't let go of the grudge against my mother and Nate is here because he can't let go of me."

Murdoc went to ask him what he meant by that, but before he could speak a word the twins turned and left the room leaving him alone with their mother. The woman was still whispering to herself, he couldn't make out much of what she was saying, but some of it sounded like biblical verses. He didn't want to be stuck here, stuck with these people.


	15. Giving In

He didn't want to be like these people. He didn't want to be stuck here because he couldn't let go of somebody or something, but the problem was unlike them it wasn't just one something or someone. There were so many lost faces and places that he couldn't let go of; he lived off of his rage, heart break, and his drunken depression. He feared what kind of a person he would be if it weren't for these negative feelings that made him who he was.

He had left Bo and Nathan's house and was now back inside of the desolate city wandering around aimlessly. The air had grown colder, before it had been damp. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, did he have to forgive and forget everything or just the things that stabbed at him the most?

There were so many things, so many things that killed him from the inside out. These were the things that he knew Hell wanted, he wondered how happy the demons would be if he let go; how enraged they would be to see one of their clients had become slightly less miserable and accepting of death.

He thought about his wife; about finally getting to see the day where she died. The pain on her face, her screams; all of that blood, she had been so stupid to believe he was a good guy. That somewhere deep down he was decent, that he could give her the world and then some. He had left her alone, left her to die just so he could go get drunk. His wife, his child….He had hurt her; he had hurt his first and last boyfriend. He had hurt so many people…

He smiled sadly to himself.

Funny how people assumed he was the type of man who physically harmed or insulted the people he dated. He didn't do either of those things, he'd never raise a hand to somebody he admitted loving; he would never verbally abuse them like the way his father had verbally abused him. What he did was neglect them; he left them alone, ditched them, and made them feel like they weren't all that important to him. He wanted them to realize that he wasn't a good man; he wasn't someone who could change….Could he change?

His mind wandered to 2D; did he love him?

He had told the kid that he didn't love; he didn't do it because it was a waste of time. It hurt like hell to hear 2D tell him that he was in love with him; Murdoc had given him no reason to feel that way….What hurt worse was that 2D didn't even expect anything back in return, he knew he wouldn't get anything back in return.

He tried to remember the last words he heard the younger man say to him before he completely went away. He remembered hearing him begging him to wake up, asking him to just stay with them, and not to leave. He pictured the singer in the hospital at his bed side, watching him like a loyal pet with its master. He would wait, not forever; Murdoc hoped that he wouldn't wait forever; he hoped that he would grow bored of waiting for Murdoc to wake up.

Time in this place didn't move the same way that it moved in the world of the living.

How long had he been in a coma in the living world?

Maybe he should give up, just let one of these demented bastards kill him and devour his soul. The world of the living would be better off that way, he was going to Hell anyways and he knew that place was a million times worse than this place could ever think of being. His mates deserved a band mate who would be sober, who wouldn't treat them like property, and 2D deserved somebody who could give back to him instead of hating him and hurting him.


	16. Lilian

Twice now he had passed the angered corpse bride. Each time she just stood there at the edge of the city with her back to him, unlike the first time he had encountered her since coming to this place she was no longer crying. She stood perfectly still; he remembered the things she had said to him in the mirror. How she told him it was his fault that Lilian had died made him feel as if he didn't deserve anything or anyone. She had been right though; he hadn't deserved his wife's love, she should have known from the beginning that he was never going to be good for her.

He felt angry at himself, at her for marrying him, and he felt angry at this dead woman who dare act like he was anything like the men who abused her while she had been alive.

Murdoc picked up a handful of small rocks and began throwing them at the dead woman.

"Fucking look at me! Over here yew fuckin' cow, I don't care if yew kill me. Do it, yew would be doing me a right fuckin' favor."

He walked closer to her with each rock that he threw. He felt light headed, his chest felt heavy, and tears burned at the backs of his eyes. Most of the rocks he threw missed, but when he was close enough to be in the danger zone they began hitting the dead woman's back. She didn't turn; she never attacked like Bo had warned him about. She just fucking stood there and allowed him to hit her with each stupid little rock.

"Look at me, why won't yew fucking look at me?"

She didn't move, she just continued on staring off in the distance.

"Please why won't yew just kill me, just fucking do it!"

He gripped tightly onto her shoulder roughly turning her to face him. When he saw her face all of the rage drained from his body, his hands began shaking, and his legs felt numb. He stumbled backwards nearly falling onto the ground.

Dark green eyes stared into him, a small smile gracing her face. This wasn't Juliet. There was no knife protruding from her throat; no blood running down the front of the white dress that she wore. She didn't look enraged or filled with malice; once a bit of the shock ebbed he was able to notice her swollen pregnant belly.

"Li-Lilian?" He asked his voice coming out weak and trembling.

It felt foreign to say her name out loud; to look at a woman he knew couldn't be here.

"N-no yew….Yew aren't real, yer not 'ere."

He didn't want to believe it, he didn't want her here; she wasn't like the others, not like him.

He took a cautious step forward; he touched his fingers to her cheek just barely brushing them against her warm skin. She couldn't be real; they would have told him if she was really here.

"Yew aren't real." It was less of a question and more of stating a fact.

"No I'm not, but you want me to be." She whispered.

"I've missed yew so much."

She placed her hand over his running her thumb over the back of it.

"I miss you too Mudsie."

"I didn't mean to let yew die."

He dropped his hand back down to his side.

"It isn't your fault."

"No it is, I should have been home; I should have taken yew, I at least should have been at the hospital when yew…..When the two of yew….I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Lily; I love yew so much."

"I love you too; you have no reason to apologize to me."

She stepped towards him; she looked so peaceful and it hurt him more than it would have hurt if she looked angry towards him. He placed his hand over her stomach.

"I would 'ave sucked as a father anyways." He said forcing himself to smile.

"Don't beat yourself up, I always hated when you did that. You aren't a terrible man."

"If that were true then why did I let yew die?"

"You didn't, you couldn't control what happened."

He averted his eyes; he didn't feel like he was even good enough to look at her. It hurt so fucking much to look at her; he spent so much time burning her memory, burning the memory of the life that they had built together. How he had tried to be a decent sort of man, he never would have been good or great, but he tried to at least be something for her.

"Murdoc; I forgive you for what happened, I love you more than anything, and I need you to forgive yourself. There's nothing you could have done, I know how much you care; please learn to forgive yourself, I don't want to see you in this place forever."

He looked up meeting her eyes.

"It's a bit better than the other place I'm gonna go." He said smiling sadly.

She didn't reply he could see the bit of hurt in her eyes. She knew; most likely she had known from the moment he had made the deal, hell maybe she knew something like this would happen even back when she had still been alive. He had always told her he would sell his soul to become something, to give her everything.

Lilian wrapped her arms around him hugging him tightly. His body tensed initially; he closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and began crying.

"I love yew so much Lily; I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry."

She ran her fingers through his hair while whispering to him that everything was alright and that she loved him more than anything in the world. He pulled back and looked down at her beautiful face; she ran her index finger along his left cheek wiping away his tears.

"It's okay; I want you to be happy, I want you to let me go."

He wanted to say he couldn't, that he couldn't even stand letting her go after being able to touch her again after all of these years, but before he could say a thing her lips were pressed to his in a gentle kiss. He closed his eyes as he kissed her back feeling himself shiver being able to kiss his bride after all of these years.

When he opened his eyes again she was gone and he stood alone in the middle of a dead city while ashes fell from the sky above him. His lips still tingled from where she had just kissed him.


	17. Going Home

Her words and the ghost of her kiss haunted him heavily. He wandered through the streets in a renewed daze; all anger and frustration was gone from his mind and body, he was only left in this daze not knowing where to go or what to feel. He didn't even notice that the buildings were disappearing around him, that beneath his feet there was no longer cracked pavement but fog. He only stopped when he arrived at a large wooden door sat here in the middle of nothing, looking like it led to nowhere. He ran his shaky fingers along the cool wood; his fingers ran down to the round gold coloured door knob. He traced the cool metal before grasping it tightly in his hand slowly turning it then pushing the door open. He was so tired and numb feeling that he couldn't even come up with the strength to be cautious or afraid of what could wait for him on the other side of this door.

Another hospital room, but this wasn't like before; this wasn't even a memory that he was aware of. On the small hospital bed he saw himself lying unconscious; an IV drip connecting to his arm, his eyes closed, hair greasier than usual, and his skin disturbingly pale. Another wire lead to another machine that beeped softly with each beat of his heart. By his bed sat 2D; the blue haired vocalist looked broken, his blackened eyes were puffy and tired looking, fresh tears ran down his pale cheeks. He was gently combing his fingers through Murdoc's hair.

He walked further into the room still not really feeling. He stopped by the chair that 2D was sitting in; he ran his fingers through the young man's spiked hair. This was real; this was what was happening in the world of the living. It looked like this must have been happening for days, maybe even weeks. This was real; this man was real, the one by his bedside looking at him with fear and love. Murdoc knelt down next to him. He buried his face in the crook of 2D's neck, his lips lightly brushing against his skin.

"Forgive me, I love yew too."

He stood to his feet and walked around to the other side of the bed. He looked down at his living self, his still form; he placed his hand on his forehead brushing back his tangled hair. He was ready to go back, no matter how much it would hurt.


	18. I Missed You

When he woke the first thing he noticed was the sound of soft crying next to him. He flexed his fingers wondering if he could even move anything at all, once he realized he could he placed his hand on top of 2D's head gently running his fingers through the younger man's messed blue hair. The singer's head shot up and his wide black eyes stared up at the older man, his expression went from one of shock to pure joy. He got up from the metal chair he'd been sitting in accidentally knocking it over in the process. He ran to the door opening it and leaning out yelling for a doctor to come in, yelling that his friend was finally awake.

A moment later a middle aged looking man with gray hair came into the room carrying a chart followed by two nurses; one a male who looked to be in his twenties and a woman with long red hair tied back in a ponytail.

They checked his eyes, his temperature, blood pressure, and every other basic tests that they could think of. The doctor asked him at least twenty different questions about how he was feeling, what he remembered before slipping into a coma, and if he understood what was going on.

He told them he remembered feeling sick and his head hurting, he wasn't crazy enough to actually tell them he had heard voices screaming in his head before he had went out of it. He told them nothing hurt at all and that he was aware that he had passed out. The doctor told him that he had apparently been in a comatose state for over two months, and then he told him that he had been clinically dead for a little over one minute, any longer and he would have been a lost cause. After that was over he told Murdoc when he had first come into the hospital they noticed how shot his liver and most of his other vital organs were, how he needed to quit drinking and doing drugs. By that point he really wasn't paying attention anymore; he just waited for the old man to shut up so he could ask them to leave him the hell alone and let 2D back into the room.

"Can my mate come back in?"

"You should rest."

"Look I've been in a bloody coma for two months, I think I've 'ad enough rest. I really wanna see him."

The doctor looked like he wanted to say something more, but decided against it. He turned and left the room with the two nurses behind him, barely a minute after they left the room 2D was coming back in. The blue haired man picked the chair up off of the ground and sat it back up properly then took a seat on it.

"I was so worried 'bout yew. I th-thought, I thought yew weren't ever gonna wake up an' they said yew were dead an' yew weren't breathing when they got to the house an'…." 2D buried his face in his hands and began crying again.

Murdoc reached out running his fingers through the other man's hair.

"Shh it's alright, c'mon mate; 'ey I'm awake now, I feel fine."

2D lowered his hands, he looked so scared; the bassist had no clue what to do, he had a million and one things he wanted to say to him right now. He wanted to tell him how he had gone to some weird middle world for lost souls, he wanted to tell him all about his dead wife, and how he had nearly died for good, and how sorry he fucking was for making him miserable all of these years when all 2D ever did was love him.

He couldn't say it, couldn't say anything; nothing he could say would change anything or come out sounding sane. So instead he settled on lightly caressing his fingers against the younger man's cheek, 2D placed his hand over Murdoc's nuzzling against it.

"I didn't leave yer side I even rode in the ambulance with ya. Please don't leave me again."

"I won't, I won't I promise; yew look like hell."

2D smiled sadly.

"I haven't slept too much since yew came here."

"Yew should go home and rest."

"I don't wanna leave."

"I'm fine, I'm not gonna go anywhere. Yew go home for a bit, eat something maybe, an' come back tonight y'know when all the nurses and doctors aren't checking in all the time. Like 'ow I used to do with yew after that second accident yew had."

Honestly he preferred it if 2D stayed with him, but he felt bad for being the reason that the younger man had lost so much sleep. He'd see him again tonight, then they could actually talk without worrying about nurses and doctors bugging them.

"Yeah a'right, I'll see yew tonight; I need to tell the others yer awake anyways. I'll see yew tonight, I'm really happy yer awake Mudsie." 2D said getting up from the chair.

He went to the door and gave Murdoc one last glance before leaving.

He really hated hospitals; they weren't places of fond memories. He wasn't really happy about being alone in this place, but he knew he wouldn't be going back to that place. He knew doctors and nurses would be coming and going most of the evening, then that night 2D would be coming around again to see him. He knew that he was finally safe.


	19. Finale

He had tried to sleep; little intervals of it, but here he now sat awake at twelve at night. When he had been trying to sleep, the moment his body relaxed he would jolt awake automatically fearing that he would die and go back to purgatory or even worse he would go to Hell. He didn't want to; he didn't want to go back to that place.

The door to his room clicked open then quietly went shut. He looked up to see 2D walking towards his bed doing his best to walk lightly and quietly. He sat down on the chair next to the bed like he had been earlier that day.

"Have yew slept at all?"

Murdoc shook his head in reply.

"Did yew tell the others 'bout me waking up?"

"Yeah I told them, Noodle's happy that yer awake." He said smiling a little.

"Did they ever come see me?"

"Russ came when we brought yew here, but that was it. Noodle came with me for the first week, kind of because she felt bad seeing me come 'ere by myself. Rest of the time it's just been me here by myself."

"Thanks"

"For wot?"

"Yew bothered to come 'ere every day just to see a cruel old bastard like me, I don't really deserve it y'know."

2D placed his hand over Murdoc's.

"I care 'bout yew…..I'm in love with yew; I know yew told me to knock it off an' that I don't really love yew, bu-but I do. I kinda wondered until all this happened and….I've never been that scared before Mudz, I really love yew."

"Come on, I want yew in bed with me; yew look uncomfortable sitting on that chair."

"Yew sure?"

"Yeah"

2D got up and carefully climbed onto the bed careful of the wires. He pressed himself against the older man's side resting his head on his chest right over his heart, Murdoc wrapped an arm around him holding him closely; protectively.

"I love yew Stuart." He whispered; the words felt weird, but they felt right.

He remembered telling him before he woke up, he remembered Lily telling him to just let go.

2D pulled his head back and stared up at the bassist.

"Really?"

Murdoc traced his index finger along the blue haired man's jawline; he leaned in kissing him softly.

"Yes, I really do."

Stray tears fell from the younger man's vacant eyes, Murdoc kissed him again. It felt right, it felt like it had meaning in it unlike the other times they had kissed and touched.

2D broke away from the kiss; he laid his head on the older man's chest again.

"Can I spend the night; I couldn't really sleep at home."

"Sure luv; I feel better if I have yew 'ere anyways."

They lay together in the silence of the room holding onto each other. Both of them wondering what had changed, why they were finally together after all of these years of struggling with their feelings. One wondered why he deserved to be loved after all of the pain he had caused so many people while the other wondered just how long this would last, but in the end neither of them cared about the why or the future. They just knew that right now in this moment they had each other, that finally the love between them was shared; even if it only lasted a month or a year it didn't matter, nothing mattered except for the right now.


End file.
